The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin (34 page)

Sabre stepped
back as a bright red frill opened around its throat, adding to its
formidable air. Dropping to all fours, it moved towards him with a
lizard's twisting, pigeon-toed gait. Sabre backed away, clutching
the knife as he assessed its weaknesses. Only its eyes, and maybe
its ears, were vulnerable, tough scales covered the rest of it.
This was a truly alien animal, a remnant of the indigenous species
that had once lived on this planet. Perhaps it had always been a
desert dweller, or maybe humans had forced it to live in this
radioactive land.

As it stalked
him, he considered his options. It seemed confident, not hurrying
after its prey. The sword in the horse's pack was far away, and if
he went after it the creature would follow, endangering Tassin.
There was nowhere to run or hide, and the beast appeared to be well
aware that it had the advantage. He would need the cyber's help to
overcome such a formidable foe without injury, and he could not
afford to waste energy on a protracted battle.

Tassin stood
beside the horse, gasping with shock and fear. She gripped the cold
hilt of the sword strapped to the saddle, but the sight of the
monster kept her frozen. She became aware of a deep humming, like a
throbbing, soundless song that crept into her bones, and tore her
eyes from the monster to study Sabre. The cyber was circling away
from her, drawing the creature after him, and now faced her. The
brow band shone with vivid blue light that brightened as the tone
of the strange humming increased, making her dizzy. The horse
collapsed with a groan, tucking its head into its flank as if to
try to escape the droning.

Shaking her
head to overcome the dizziness, she watched in amazement as the
monster stopped, apparently mesmerised by the vibrations. The brow
band blazed electric blue as the mind-numbing drone deepened, going
well below the range of human hearing, yet still exerting its
power. The monster snapped its beak with a clashing of razor-edged
horn, not as easily overcome as the horse. Nevertheless, its eyes
glazed and it stood immobile, transfixed by the cyber band. Sabre
walked closer, and the creature turned its head to follow his
movement, its orange eyes filled with impotent rage.

Sabre paused,
clearly aware of the animal's continued aggression, and neither
moved as the brow band's hum changed note again, searching for the
right frequency to incapacitate the alien beast. After several
moments, it seemed to find it, for the brute's head sagged and its
eyes lost their lustre. It sank to the ground as if exhausted, and
Sabre approached its neck. He pried up several scales, pulling them
off to expose the soft hide beneath, then plunged the knife into
the beast's jugular.

The creature
shuddered, its tail twitching, but it was unable to escape the
cyber's control. Blue blood pumped from the wound, almost drenching
Sabre, who backed away. The beast's head lowered until it rested on
the sand, its eyes growing blank and glazed. Its limbs trembled as
it struggled to escape the cyber's control, and the blood that
flowed from its neck dwindled to a trickle. When the monster had
ceased to twitch, Sabre turned to Tassin.

For a second
the full power of the cyber swept over her, like a pressure beating
at her brain. Then the brow band dulled to its usual blackness with
red, amber and green sparkles and the pressure vanished along with
an indiscernible something that she had not been aware of until it
was gone. Beside her, the horse snorted and clambered to its
feet.

Sabre came over
to her, a strange emotion in his eyes. "It's dead."

"What is it, a
dragon?" Tassin gazed at the creature, wide-eyed.

He glanced back
at the beast. "I suppose you'd call it a dragon. I'd call it a
survivor of the indigenous animals that once inhabited this planet,
and I regret that I had to kill it."

"But it would
have killed you."

"That's why I
killed it." He bent to clean the blood-smeared blade in the
sand.

"How did you do
that?"

Sabre
straightened and tapped the brow band. "That's what cybers do.
Cyber is short for cybernetics, the science of control and
communications in animals and machines. Just as the cyber once
controlled me, it's able to control animals over a limited
distance. Unfortunately, it can't control people, or I'd have used
it on you a long time ago."

"Why would you
want to do that?"

"Because you
never listen to me! I said stay with the horse, but no, you come
trotting after me, endangering both of us. When I tell you to do
something, I'm not just enjoying the sound of my own damned
voice!"

She lowered her
eyes, annoyed and surprised by the wash of shame that went through
her. "Maybe you did not have to kill it, for it was very slow. How
did it know we were here?"

Sabre took a
water skin from the saddlebag and sipped from it. "It's a type of
reptile, a cold-blooded animal. Doubtless it's a day hunter and
moves a lot faster in the heat. Cold always makes reptiles
sluggish. I think it would have followed us, and you aren't strong
enough to run any distance.

"Being a
reptile, it doesn't have to eat that often, although I can't
imagine what there is to eat here. I haven't seen another life sign
since we left the road. As to how it knew about us, that's simple.
All movement causes vibrations, and that animal was an ambush
hunter. It lies in wait until something comes near enough, then
grabs it."

"But how did
you know it was there?"

"The cyber told
me."

"That is what
you meant when you said you had made a bargain with it? It helps
you now?"

Sabre nodded,
gazing at the huge corpse.

Tassin glanced
at it. "Are you going to eat it?"

"No. According
to the cyber, it's poisonous. Its blood contains a lot of copper,
ours contains iron. Too much copper is very bad for a human."

"So if it had
eaten you it would have died too?"

Sabre smiled.
"Well, it might not have died, but I'd probably have given it
indigestion. Then again, with all the barrinium in me I'd give
anything a stomach-ache. There must be another indigenous animal
that lives here. That creature's too alien to live on our type of
flesh. Perhaps that's why the colonists wiped out the indigenous
species, because they were useless to them."

"I hope we do
not meet any more of those."

"Next time I'll
give it a wide berth. I thought it might be something edible, even
though the cyber told me it was alien. The scanners couldn't
analyse its body chemistry until I was close to it."

The following
night, they encountered life again, but this time the dot on the
cyber's scanners was pink, also unidentified, and a lot smaller.
Sabre went to investigate, and found a strange, cylindrical beast
crawling across the sand. Tassin tried to hold him back when he
approached it, and he urged her nearer, sure that the slow-moving,
worm-like creature was harmless.

"I think it's
what the dragons eat, don't be scared," he said.

"I am not
scared," she retorted, releasing him and approaching the beast, as
he had known she would.

The worm
creature moved on six stumpy legs, dragging a fat, boneless body
after it. Its blue internal organs were visible through its pale,
translucent skin, and its eyeless head searched the sand with long
whiskers, ingesting certain rocks and sand, which it ground to a
paste. Sabre squatted beside it and watched it for a while,
fascinated. The cyber's scanners showed that it also contained a
lot of copper, which meant that this was a closed system. The worms
ate sand and the dragons ate the worms, but what, if anything, ate
the dragons?

The alien
creature seemed oblivious to their presence, and he did not wish to
alarm it, not knowing what sort of defensive mechanisms it might
possess. Despite his assurances to the Queen, he was aware that
many apparently harmless prey animals were sometimes armed with
dangerous defences. Strangely, this creature was nocturnal while
the dragons were diurnal. Perhaps this was not their original food
source, but one they had been forced to adopt when all the other
animals had been wiped out.

"What is it?"
Tassin whispered.

He glanced at
her. "Well, it's not a reptile. This one seems to be more like a
worm. It eats certain types of rock and sand, feeding at night and
probably living in a burrow during the day. Its skin is far too
fragile to withstand the sun. You'll probably find that they have
water in their burrows. Since this is a man-made desert, there
could be plenty of water underground. This is definitely what the
dragons feed on, quite harmless."

She pulled a
face. "It is ugly."

Sabre stood,
his curiosity satisfied, and scanned the flat expanse that
surrounded them. They had encountered no sign of burrows on their
journey, so it seemed likely that the worm creature fabricated a
lid for its hole. If he could find one, it might be possible to
climb down it and fill the water skins from the worm's supply, but
the scanners could not detect anything deep down. They had been
fortunate to stumble across the well, which had seeped water into
the surrounding soil, probably cracked during the conflict. The
scanners had detected the water because it was only ten metres
down, but a worm's twisting tunnel was probably far deeper and
plugged with a thicker lid.

They left the
worm to its sandy meal and walked on, almost mechanically now.
Despite his efforts to conserve water by travelling at night,
Sabre's tongue rustled dryly between cracked, parched lips, and an
amber warning light flashed in the cyber's host status data,
indicating his dehydrated state. According to the data, his
bio-status was only fifty-two per cent, dangerously low. He had
drunk no water since the previous night, and that had only been a
few sips. Tassin had consumed most of it, and was in far better
condition. The chestnut still dragged itself along, but Sabre did
not think it would live much longer.

Sabre watched
its staggering gait for a while, then, as dawn broke and they
stopped to rest for the day, he decided to end its suffering. The
chestnut, unlike the bay, was not giving up. After sharpening the
knife to a razor edge, he made a nick in the horse's jugular. The
animal did not appear to feel it, and stood with a hanging head. He
collected the blood in one of the empty water skins, saddened by
the death of the noble beast. As its blood pressure dropped, the
gelding lay down and closed its eyes. It stretched out on the soft
sand, heaved a great sigh, and died.

Tassin sat and
watched with dull eyes, clearly too tired to care. The horse's
death meant one last infusion of life for them, and it would not
have survived the journey anyway. Sabre drank the blood in small
amounts, so that it did not sicken him. Tassin accepted some this
time, to his surprise, pulling a face at its taste. He butchered
the animal and ate the soft organs again, but Tassin drew the line
at raw meat. They drank all the blood before it spoilt, then Sabre
cut strips of meat. When he had as much as he could safely dry,
they left the corpse and walked on for a distance, not wishing to
sleep beside it.

Gearn studied
the giant who stood before him, nodding in satisfaction. Five days
had passed since Hispor had departed on his mission, and Gearn was
well pleased with the result. The gladiator's two-metre frame was
padded with ridges and slabs of muscle. He had barely fitted
through the door, his shoulders too wide for the portal, and his
head brushed the stone roof. The giant's brutal face showed the
battle scars of many years in the arena, owning a flattened nose,
missing teeth and a jagged, ugly scar that twisted his face,
running through one eye, although the orb had survived
unscathed.

His shaven head
sported more scars, and his ears were ragged remnants. A gold ring
dangled from one, drawing attention to the ropes of muscle that
corded his neck. A chain mail breech clout was his only garb,
exposing his mighty bronzed body to the envious stares of lesser
men and the lustful gaze of women. His arms and legs bulged with
muscles that writhed each time he moved. Sturdy gladiator's boots
reached his calves, laced with leather thongs, and polished steel
bands encircled his wrists.

Gearn, annoyed
at having to twist his neck, gestured to a chair. "Sit down. Tell
me your name."

The giant
lowered himself into the chair, which creaked under his weight, and
growled, "I'm Murdor, champion of the arena."

"Good. Did my
apprentice explain the task to you?"

"Sure, you want
me to kill some spindly little man."

Gearn coughed,
shooting Hispor a dark glance. "Well, almost. I need you to come
with me across the badlands, find this man and kill him. But he's a
great warrior, so you'll need my help."

"I'll squash
'im with one fist." His scarred hand clenched, and Gearn
shuddered.

"I'm sure you
could, but I want to make absolutely certain. So I'll give you
magical protection, and before we leave I'll make you even mightier
than you already are."

The gladiator
smiled, the scar making his eye droop. "What about me payment?"

"What do you
want?"

"Gold, women, a
castle." He shrugged. "All the things a man needs in life."

"Naturally.
That's no problem; it will be waiting when we return."

"Then let's get
on with it."

"Certainly."
Gearn turned to the bottle of potion he had prepared while Hispor
had been away. Its effect would be permanent, and he hoped Murdor
would retire from the arena after this journey. Once he had
consumed the magical fluid no man would be able to stand against
him, including the warrior mage. When they caught up with the Queen
and her foolish champion, he almost pitied the unfortunate man, and
looked forward to the confrontation. His triumph was assured, he
was certain, along with the King’s reward.